’58 and ’98 Made Me Drink

by Steven J. Serafiani

The only way that I could
pump out words tonight was
put a couple slugs in my
liver.

See, sat down sober and
stared at sheet till
look up saw “Dharma Bums” and
“Bone Palace Ballet”; those
fucking ink jackals made
me secede to store to
spend my last greenbacks on
suds to slide back into
ilk.